


The Chapel

by Port



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Prinsessen i kisten | The Princess in the Coffin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6867961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port/pseuds/Port
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything worked out nicely for the king in the end, but one thing bothers him now: the princess refuses to set foot in the church.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chapel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liviania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liviania/gifts).



> Hi Liviania! Hope you enjoy this little take on The Princess in the Coffin. I liked your prompts and the suggestion of focusing on the princess's lack of choice in the story, but decided for some reason the best way to explore that was through a totally different pov. Hopefully it works for you; I'm sort of undecided myself!
> 
> The version of the story used is from [Danish Fairy Tales](http://archive.org/stream/danishfairytales00gruniala#page/45/) by J. Grant Cramer. 
> 
> Thanks to the mods for running this great exchange!

_"Many, many years afterward, when the marble floor of the church was being repaired, they found a loose stone under which was a secret vault, and there they found the skeletons of the sentries who had stood guard over the coffin of the princess; and the necks of all were broken."_ 


The kingdom had been at peace for years, as though all possibility of trouble had dried up the moment the queen had conceived their little girl, Miri. All through the fourteen years of the girl’s seclusion, the neighboring kingdoms grew friendlier, and when Miri died on her fourteenth birthday, the kings and queens representing all the foreign lands came to visit and gathered in the church for her funeral. In the midst of his grief, the king bonded with his guests and his land grew more secure than ever. And when Christian lifted the magic spell on Miri and brought her back to life, all of the king’s allies celebrated and honored their nation, and pledged fealty, because heaven clearly had blessed the land and its royal family.

In the five years since, the king had grown used to peace and happiness. His wife, Licia, had fulfilled her duty to bear a child, and now that that child was free from seclusion, Licia no longer spent all her time and energy dissuading him from trying to visit it, which had been hard to keep patient with. With Miri back from the dead, his and Licia’s mourning was over, and nothing more stood between them. It was like being married anew. Their daughter brought them great joy, for she had a sweet and delightful nature. 

The only sticking point for the king was his daughter’s refusal to set foot in the church. No matter the holiday or celebration, she avoided the place. Even for funerals, she would not attend services there. It would have been quite the embarrassment for the future queen of the land to be seen as irreligious, but thankfully Miri prayed in the palace chapel quite regularly. She could be found there for hours every Sunday morning, and every day at sunrise and sunset. She never herself referred to her time in the chapel, but the servants spoke to each other of her piety, and it had become quite well known throughout the kingdom that the princess was a godly woman.

Nonetheless, Miri would not go into the church where her coffin had rested, and the king could not understand it. He had tried to reason with her, and when that had failed, he had turned to yelling. Usually when the king yelled, everyone obeyed him, even Licia. But Miri held herself very still, like an oak in a windstorm, and waited for him to finish yelling before quietly saying that she would still not go, despite how much she loved him. The king had turned around in a circle with his hands in the air, utterly exasperated, and then left the room.

After five years of Miri’s absence from masses, wedding ceremonies, funerals, baptisms, confirmations, and all manner else of church functions, Miri gave birth to a daughter of her own and refused to allow the baptism to take place in the church.

“I would rather the ceremony happened in the chapel,” she told her parents the morning after she gave birth, lying in bed with her baby in her arms, Christian by her side looking as he always did, like he couldn’t believe where he was, only now more so.

“But the chapel is so small,” the king said. “Hardly anyone will be able to attend.”

“There’s space for the most important guests,” Miri said. “If we have a big celebration afterward, nobody will feel slighted.”

“This is highly unusual!” the king said. “It’s bad enough you won’t go near the church yourself. You can’t keep your daughter away as well!”

Licia put her hand on his arm. “Please, dear. I rather like the idea of a private ceremony, and Miri must be very tired.”

“No, I won’t allow it,” the king said. He had been patient all through the fourteen years of Miri’s seclusion, and he had kept up the costly chore of finding and hiring a new sentry every day she had been dead, even to the point of paying a man half his kingdom. He had even patiently allowed her to worship alone in the chapel instead of with the rest of the royal household in the church. “The baptism will take place in the church, and that is final.”

The days before the baptism passed swiftly. At first, the king felt satisfied and happy. He had a peaceful kingdom, a dutiful wife, a lovely daughter, and a healthy granddaughter. He walked the halls of the castle with a light step. But soon he became aware that Miri was even quieter than usual. She picked listlessly at her food during meals, only spoke in answer to others, and even then was reticent. Her tread was slower, and her color washed out from rosy to grey.

Finally, the night before the baptism, the king lay in bed with his wife speaking to her about his concerns. 

“I don’t want to give in to this strange mania of hers,” he confided. “But I think if I did she would be happy again. What am I to do, Licia?”

Licia gave it some thought, then said, “Princesses are often spoiled in one way or another, but ours is so good and only asks for the chapel to be her special place. Perhaps you can gift it to her, to use as she pleases.”

The king considered for a while, remembering that Miri’s early life had been hard on her as well as him, and this was a small thing he could do to cheer her. So in the morning, he rose early and went directly to the chapel, planning to tell Miri that he was gifting it to her, and that she could mark all her young family’s celebrations there.

But when he arrived in the little space, it was to see Miri and Christian standing over the font with their baby immersed in the water. They drew her out and wrapped her in a white christening gown.

In his shock and anger, the king found himself speechless and standing frozen out of sight while his daughter and son-in-law recited the prayers on his granddaughter’s behalf. Just as he was about to step into the dimly lit space and blast them with furious words, though, Miri said softly, “And we name you Jessi.” 

Jessi was the name of the king’s departed mother. Struck and pleased by this gesture, the king revealed himself with his arms outstretched. “My good daughter, you have made me so very proud today,” he cried, startling Miri and Christian so badly that they both gasped.

Miri collected herself first, holding the newly christened Jessi close to her chest. “Father, you’re not angry?”

The king said, “I should be, but you have softened my heart. Not only do I forgive you, but I bestow on you this chapel to manage as you please and use for all occasions.”

Miri looked pleased, her cheeks growing rosier as the king’s words sank in. “Thank you, Father. I am very pleased with this generous gift.”

“I thought you might be,” the king said, “considering how much time you spend here. I suppose I can understand wanting your child’s baptism to take place in your own spiritual home.” He looked around the chapel, at its bare stone walls and simple altar. “Though I still don’t know why you prefer this drafty place to the church. I don’t suppose you could tell your old father now why you hate the place so much?”

Miri and Christian traded a serious sort of look, and finally Christian spoke. “Your Highness, if it pleases you, Miri lay in the church for a full year. The memory of her living death simply overwhelms her whenever she enters that space. Surely you have felt burdened by the memory of that year as well?”

Taken aback, the king considered this new perspective. “Is that the reason, then? Miri, you could overcome your anxiety with practice, but I suppose a princess is due her indulgences. The chapel is still yours, and Licia and I will have to get used to coming here for celebrations.”

Miri frowned as though she tasted something bitter, but inclined her head in a respectful bow. “Thank you, Father. Shall we tell Mother her granddaughter has a name?”

As they all went to find Licia, the king thought about what he had learned. His daughter was a strange creature. He would have thought a woman as pious as she would find strength to overcome irrational fear, especially in as holy a place as the church. There was nothing there to frighten, only to inspire. But then perhaps he shouldn’t be so hard on her. After all, three hundred sixty two sentries had fled that very church rather than stand guard all night during the year of Miri’s death. Not one had ever come back to the city or even contacted his family in all the time since. And meanwhile, his good Miri spent her mornings and evenings stopped in solemn prayer.

He wondered whether, wherever those men had gone, they even continued attending church services.

End


End file.
